InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Fear is the mind-killer."

ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ (arcane) wrote in hobbs_end,
@ 2015-07-09 21:02:00

Entry tags:

ouat: killian jones, rating: pg, ritchieverse: dr john watson

WHO: Hook & Watson
WHERE: Taking a boat across the lake
WHAT: ~EXPLORING~
RATING: Probably mostly safe?
STATUS: Complete

His hollowed heart, a whirlpool of dirt swirling in there, quite ached for the sea but this would do. Killian supposed, at least for now. It was just difficult to fathom anything else, what with how used he was to sharing a ship with crew and cargo alike (or even just himself, a lonesome party of one), and going quite some time never holding eyes for anyone or anything but the sea. Oh, aye, the majestic glory had captured his heart before he'd ever sailed her. So as one could imagine, a lake was an interesting substitute, but alas.

Why not go out there with his best mate Watson to see what they could see? They'd promised they'd do a bit of exploring - Killian remembered, after that drunken billiards night. A wonder he remembered anything at all from that whiskey-laden adventure, but he still had a few marbles rolling around upstairs. Hopefully this exploration today would prove beneficial.

"Did I mention that Swan tried to blast that half-built wall with magic?" he remarked, cleating off the ropes on their small-but-hardy sailboat vessel. There were also oars if the winds didn't favour them, just in case. They'd be alright with the Captain as, well, the Captain. Naval warfare ran in his blood and this was a few notches down from that. "Nothing happened, not even a scratch. We also had no idea why it was even half-built...what the bloody hell's the point of a half-built wall, anyway?"

Another mystery to unravel.

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the_sentinel
2015-08-06 12:42 pm UTC (link)

There was a loud crack overhead, not unlike a lightning strike, and suddenly the three paths that lay ahead of the would-be adventurers had disappeared: replaced with one path.

The single path might have been ordinary, except that contrary to the other manmade surroundings, the path looked brand new. Plus, it wasn't there before.

Inviting, the flagstones were pristine - no sign of weeds growing between the stones, no mold, no cracks. There were even a lamppost positioned at the start of the path, casting a welcoming halo of light across the area.

Despite this, behind Watson and Hook, the pier had disappeared. The empty lake was all that remained. Temporary or no, the thick fog that was slowly creeping to the edges of the land seemed like another reason to risk taking the new path. There were some distant noises across the darkening lake that reminded one of something big breaking the water's surface.

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beltandbraces
2015-08-07 04:22 am UTC (link)

Watson did not have a habit of starting a project, only to quit right before its completion. The same could be said about outdoor excursions such as the current one, as it were. What purpose was there in making the journey, and cutting it short just before you reached one’s destination? Granted, with how their journey was turning out, all Watson would want is to go back home.

“A meeting should work well, assuming there are other people to read it. I wouldn’t mind doing it myself, if you’re not up to it.” It couldn’t hurt to try, whether or not there were other people in town. Even if the meeting consisted of three or four, it would be better than doing absolutely nothing. Or getting soaked at the pub, again.

When Jones gave his answer, Watson took a step towards the right path, simply because he could and he wanted to see if Jones would protest. “Finders keepers, is that the rules no-“. The sudden, unexpected crack of thunder signaled the end of their trip, and at first it was because thunder often meant rain: if Hook wanted to continue exploring in the rain, he was welcome to, whereas Watson had a different plan.

But a bit of a storm would be the least of their problems, given how their surroundings changed.. almost like magic. Watson couldn’t bring himself to say that this was a hallucination, because there was nothing to explain it. The last time he’d eaten or drank something was quite a few hours ago, and if anything had been altered, it would have taken effect by now.

Standing by what used to be the right path, Watson took a step back from it, and gestured to Hook with his canesword. "...To press on would be a poor decision, Jones. We should..” Turning around, he had every intention of going back to the pier, but the unmistakeable absence of said pier was troubling, to say the least, not to mention the distant sound of breaking water. Without saying anything else, Watson strode past Hook, and as he walked past, he pulled on one of Hook’s sleeves, encouraging the man to follow.

Since the pier was most definitely out of the question, they had few paths left for them to take. The one he chose wasn’t too clear, but it would lead them to the north, where they would find the wooden bridge that connects the Marshlands to the town. It would not be too a long walk, not unless they wanted to take their time and go sight-seeing. Whatever was in the lake wouldn’t change course; the fog would spread, but the state of reality would remain unchanged everywhere else.

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arcane
2015-08-07 12:10 pm UTC (link)

The bloody hell was this?

It was an odd sound, that crack - like the skies opening, thunder caving in, almost a warning for what was to come. But the magic that followed, well, Hook most certainly recognized it as such. He felt the shimmer of heat, a ripple of change in the air - of course he didn't know what kind of magic, but that's what it was. And it did not appear to be something that he could actively take on, stubborn or no, given that the ominous fog rolling in and the sudden disappearance of the pier were both quite foreboding things.

"You...may be right about that," he was forced to admit to the equally stubborn Watson (why else would he tell the Captain to choose a path, and then pick the opposite one! Honestly!), and he didn't need much coaxing. Standing around gaping like a fish wouldn't do them any good, nor would staying. Swan would kill him if he died, that was quite apparent.

So toward the north they would go, heading for the bridge. Traveling back on foot, at least they had decided that a town hall meeting would be beneficial to suss more of this mystery out (and Killian had agreed to Watson setting it up if he wanted, why not?), but as for the now, not much had been discovered besides a clear creepy factor - and what had become of Mary?

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